Shadow of Danger (5 page)

“Celeste, look at me.” Roy’s rough, stern tone refocused her attention. “That call I’d gotten from Ed this morning...he’d found one of the women. When we got there, we found three others. While John is here to help, I’d like your involvement as well, but only if you want to.”

She met his gaze. “Of course, whatever I can do.” She’d do anything to make the nightmares stop before they drove her insane.

He grinned, though the smile didn’t meet his eyes. “That a girl,” he encouraged. “John and I are heading to the dump site now. I was hoping you’d join us, look around, see if you can, I dunno,
see
something we can’t.”

“Yeah, sure.” She stared at her lap, then raised her eyes to Roy as she had a horrifying thought. “None of the bodies...victims, I mean, are—”

“No, honey, CSU took them to the morgue in Eau Claire.” He played with his mustache, a nervous habit she’d picked up on a long time ago. “They were able to ID two of the women.”

“And?”

“Well, one of them had a necklace tangled in her hair.”

“Sheriff.” Kain’s censuring tone had her whipping her head in his direction. “You’re revealing pertinent information that if leaked could—”

“Celeste won’t tell anybody,” Roy snapped, irritation flushing his face. He kept his eyes trained on Kain for a moment before turning his gaze back to her.

She wanted to cry. Roy looked as if what he was about to say had him tortured, mind, body and soul. “I know you can sometimes get a read off of objects. After we check out the dump site, would you be willing to try to get something off the victim’s necklace?”

“This is a murder investigation,” Kain said before she could answer. “And I don’t think there’s any need to rely on her
special powers.
” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Let’s leave it to the professionals. Really, Sheriff, she’s out of her league.” 

“
She
is sitting right there.” Roy rose, and stabbed a finger at Kain. “Celeste is a strong woman. There’s nothing out of her league, and I trust her with my life. So lose the attitude or I’ll call—”

“Enough.” She turned to Kain. “I honestly don’t want to be involved in this, but I do want to put an end to my nightmares. If you’re worried I’m going to gossip, don’t.”

His dark eyes softened before he shrugged. “I’m just the hired help. If Roy wants you on board...”

“I do, so let’s go. It’s about thirty minutes to the dump site and at this time of year, the sun fades fast. Celeste, you can ride with me, Kain, you go with—”

“Roy, Matt’s here, demanding to see you,” Bev broke in on the phone intercom.

“Shit. Okay, tell him to hang tight.”

“Boysen, the reporter?” Kain asked.

Roy sighed. “The one and only. Okay, change of plans. Jesse and I will meet you. Lloyd has been keeping the area secure, and Dan’s meeting us there. Both can show you around. Now go on and head out the back door. I don’t want Matt knowing we’re using Celeste on this.” He handed Kain her notes. “Read these when you have a chance.”

“What about my car?” she asked, although more concerned with the papers in Kain’s hands. She had seen the disbelief in his eyes regarding her abilities, and while it had ticked her off, for the second time today, she wished she were normal, not psychic. She’d rather have the heated gaze Kain had sent her earlier at the diner, than the one he was giving her now. Once again the loneliness set in, wrapping itself around her and making her shiver as if this were another dreaded Wisconsin winter rather than an Indian summer.  

“Everybody knows that if you’re not at the diner, or baking in your basement, you’re here, BSing with me and Bev. Don’t worry, I’ll handle Matt. Besides it’ll give you two a chance to talk.”

The last thing she wanted to do was talk to someone who looked at her as if she were a complete nut job. Except, as she followed him to his car, his broad shoulders and ass caught her attention. Her body instantly hummed with the remembrance of his touch, making her crave more. Something about this man had her longing for freedom, and passion, and searching for an answer to the loneliness and restlessness plaguing her.

Not that she’d necessarily find those things with him. Besides, she couldn’t be with a man who didn’t accept or believe in her abilities. But a girl could dream...without nightmares.

Chapter 5

John pulled off of Main Street and onto the two lane highway leading them to the dump site. The minutes stretched. With Celeste staring out the passenger window, ignoring him, the silence grew unbearable. So much for talking.

He hadn’t meant to come off like a total dick, but damn it, he didn’t do psychics. Okay, he’d like to
do
this particular psychic, spread her out on his bed and find out if she tasted as delicious as she smelled.

Bad idea. She was now officially his unofficial partner, and the past had taught him a deadly lesson in that regard. You just don’t mix business with pleasure. Besides, Roy had an obvious fatherly affection toward her, and a strong connection to Ian. Those were two men he didn’t want as enemies. Ian was his boss, he respected him, admired him...owed him for giving him a second chance after he’d left the FBI. Roy? Well, even though he was probably twenty years younger than the sheriff, and had a tremendous amount of combat training, the man still resembled Paul Bunyan, and he didn’t believe in
the bigger they are the harder they fall
bullshit. Been there done that, too many times.  

Still, he couldn’t disregard that touch back at the diner. Just thinking about it, how his body had exploded with the need to possess her in every way possible, had him wanting to know more about her. Which was stupid. He had no interest in becoming involved with a woman claiming to be a psychic. Besides, other than his body, he had little else to offer her. What was left of his heart, he dedicated to his family and CORE. His soul...his soul was too tarnished, blackened by a past he couldn’t seem to put to rest. Renee’s image flashed in his mind. Not her pretty angular features, or her dark eyes, but what she’d looked like the last time he’d seen her. Her thin lips, held wide with the barrel of a gun shoved down her throat.

Holding back a wince and clearing his head of a memory that had continued to haunt him for nearly two years, he gripped the steering wheel. He’d do his part in Wissota Falls, keep as much distance as possible from Celeste, then take Ian up on the trip to Scottsdale. While he hated golf, he hated the unfamiliar territory he treaded on with the sexy psychic even more. His career was on track again, and he had no room for a relationship. A one-night-stand maybe, but just picturing Roy’s beefy fist bouncing off his nose had him eliminating that idea before it could take root.

So he was stuck with the psychic beauty for the time being. He’d had worse partners, but at least they’d talked to him. Glancing over at her, he wished she’d say something. Tell him to go to hell or better yet joke around with him like she’d done with the customers at the diner. It appeared, though, that she carried a stubborn streak. “It’s unseasonably warm here,” he said lamely, breaking the ice.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So you run the diner?” He’d try that route.

“Yep.”

Minutes ticked, then she released a dramatic sigh.

Shit, here it comes.
 

“Kain, I—” 

“John.”

She swiveled and stared at him.

“I’d prefer if you called me John.” For whatever reason, Kain sounded cold, and he didn’t like the idea of any coldness coming from her lush, kissable lips, even if he couldn’t taste them.

She furrowed her dark-blond brows. “Okay,
John.
Look, I don’t care if you believe in my visions.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I. Don’t.” She twirled a curl around her finger. “But Roy asked for my help, so maybe I should just tell you about these dreams I’ve been having.”

“You mean the
nasty
little nightmares keeping you from your beauty sleep.”

“Please don’t talk to me in that condescending tone. I’m tired, exhausted, actually. I haven’t slept much in the past four days.” Her voice trembled and guilt niggled at him.

She did look tired. Like the sheriff, she wore a smile in public, but the telltale signs of weariness were there, etched on her face. He glanced at her and for the first time noticed pale purple smudges under her stormy blue eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.”

She looked out the window. “Yes, you did.”

He chuckled. The little smartass busted him. “You’re right, I did. Sorry.” When she didn’t say anything he looked over at her again. “I really am sorry. Please don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting,” she told the window. “I’m…wondering.”

“About?”

She turned and stared at him with a probing gaze. “Did you feel anything when you touched me at the diner?”

There was no way in hell he’d admit to the erotic connection that even now was ready to blow his dick through the roof of the car. Even if she’d enchanted him with those intelligent eyes, lush lips, soft curves, and the aroma of fresh baked cinnamon rolls on Sunday morning. What would be the point? He’d do his job and leave.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. “Let’s stick to your visions.” 

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him for a long moment, then waved her hand. “Fine, whatever. The first vision happened four nights ago.” She leaned into the leather passenger seat and closed her eyes. “I remember being agitated that day. Not for any particular reason, just edgy, bitchy. I came home from the diner and worked out.”

That perked his interest. No wonder she had such a hot body.

“When I finished, I felt better, but after I showered I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I went to bed.” With her eyes still closed, she drew in a deep, shaky breath. “I fell asleep right away, which is unusual for me. I like to watch some TV before I go to bed or sometimes I lie there and think about what needs to be done the next day, you get the idea.”

He nodded and refrained from telling her to move along with her story. He didn’t want to imagine her lying in bed, maybe wearing a t-shirt and panties or nothing at all.

“It was a drugging sleep, like someone snuck cold medicine in my coffee...” She trailed off for a long moment.

“Okay and then what happened?”

When she didn’t answer, he glanced over, and nearly jerked the car toward the embankment. She stared at him, her eyes no longer sparkling blue, but lifeless pools of murky gray. They spoke of disillusionment and horror, and caused a sickening sense of dread to ripple through him.

“Celeste? Are you okay?” he asked, and locked his gaze on the road.

She remained silent so he chanced another glance, then did a quick double. Her face had grown disturbingly pale, beads of perspiration collected on her brow and upper lip. Either she was one hell of an actress or in a state of psychosis. He’d place his bet on the latter. Four years ago, he’d worked a case where a bible-thumper had killed his entire family. His delusions and hallucinations had him believing his wife of twenty-two years and their three children were plotting against him with a satanic cult. Later, they’d learned he’d had a brain tumor, which doctors believed had caused the psychosis.

Not fully versed on the subject, and treading on unfamiliar ground, he pulled off the highway, then threw the car into
PARK
. As he reached for his cell phone to call the sheriff, she arched her back. Agony contorted her face as she released a scream that sent his skin crawling.

Dropping the phone, he moved to reach for her, but she slumped into the seat, her head lolling from side to side. “I ache all over. Everywhere.” She raised a shaky hand to her face, tenuously touching her cheek, then her eye. A sob tore loose. “My face, I could have taken his fists, but the knife...I hate him.” She gnashed her teeth. “I hate you,” she screamed over and over, then shuddered. “Oh no, he’s coming back. I’ve got to get away. Let go of me.” She pulled on the seatbelt, kicked and pivoted her body. Her knee connected with the glove box, then she went still.

Stunned, he weighed his options. He could try shaking her out of the hallucination, but she could cause injury to him or herself if she thought he was the one with the knife. He could also try hauling her out of the car, but he worried she’d run. With neither option feasible, he reached for his cell phone again. As he was about to hit the sheriff’s preprogrammed number, she began panting as if she’d just sprinted a forty-yard dash.

“I’m free,” she blurted, then the contorted smile shaping her mouth fell and her brows furrowed. “But there’s too many trees. I can’t figure out where to run, can’t tell which direction to go.” Sobbing, she clutched her stomach, and heaved in gulping breaths. “Oh God, shut up you sick fuck. Shut up.” Celeste pressed her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Rocking in the passenger seat she started mumbling. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

The eerie melody made his gut coil. The heartburn he’d thought he’d taken care of earlier returned. “Celeste, you have to—”

She groaned and clasped her shoulder. Pain and confusion twisting her face, making her almost unrecognizable to the women he’d met at the diner. She darted her eyes around the front seat. “I...I fell into a, I don’t know what it is, but it’s metal. Cold. Big. Like a combine or...Shit, he’s coming. I can’t move fast enough, he’s right behind me. Gaining. Almost there, almost...”

She gasped. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, as she raised a trembling hand to the back of her head.

“He split my head open, the skin’s torn. So much blood.” She looked down at her hand, then grunted. Her head shot back, and she arched her neck. “Let go,” she wailed. “Oh God, why didn’t I cut it, I should have listened to Judy and cut my damn hair.” She swung her head from side to side, blocking her face with her wrist, as if warding off imaginary fists. “Make him stop. God, please make him stop.”  

His stomach tightened, his concern intensified. He grabbed the cell phone, but it slipped from his sweaty hand and landed on the floorboard in the back seat. As he reached for it, his eyes locked on the notes Roy had given him before they’d left the Sheriff’s Department. While he was convinced she was experiencing some sort of psychosis-induced hallucination, a small part of him wondered if maybe this
was
a psychic trance. Although skeptical, he decided he’d take a chance. He didn’t want to miss out on catching the man who’d killed four women, even if he held no belief in the supernatural.   

“Who’s after you?” he asked gently, and while he wanted to hold her, erase the pain and horror from her beautiful face, he fisted his hands instead, worried touching her might pull her from whatever was happening to her. “Can you see his face?”

“No, no, no,” she cried. “He has on a ski mask. Oh God, he stinks.” She wrinkled her nose and gagged.

He frowned. “Stinks?”

“Like bleach. I can’t take anymore,” she sobbed. “The smelly bastard...I need air. Fresh air. I need to smell my Mama’s prized gardenias and my Daddy’s Old Spice. I can’t breathe. I can’t...” Her mouth gaped open as she gasped and clutched her stomach. Face ghostly pale, eyes wide, her body jerked up, once, twice before she released a gurgled moan.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her eyes rolled back. “So much blood,” she murmured, her lips barely moving. “My poor parents, I should have listened to them. I should have stayed home. I should never have left. I’m so sorry Mama. Why didn’t I listen?”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Celeste,” he soothed.

Her sobs ended. She blinked, then parted her lips. A long sigh escaping as she closed her eyes. “I can’t feel my body anymore. Red. So much red.”

“Blood?” he prodded.

She shook her head and smiled. Not the shy grin she’d flashed him at the diner, or the beautiful dimpled smile she’d laid on Roy. Without mirth, without life, she thinned her lips. “No. Teeny, tiny balls of red. I’m swimming in them. They’re everywhere, my nose, mouth. It’s getting dark, they’re fading...fading...”

Her breathing grew alarmingly shallow and her body went slack.

Panicking, and no longer caring about how she’d react if he drew her from the hallucination, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a hard shake. When she didn’t respond, he placed his ear to her mouth. Christ, she wasn’t breathing. “Celeste,” he shouted, and jerked her body again. “Wake up, damn it.”

She gasped and panted, clawed at him, punched her fists against his chest and arms.

“Stop, it’s me. John. Calm down, you’re okay.”

She blinked several times, her eyes changing from gray to blue, as she released a sob and wrapped her arms around his neck. Aftershocks of fear trembled though her body. Wanting to ease her fear and give her comfort, he embraced her and cradled her against his chest. Inhaling her sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent, he wished like hell he could hold her under different circumstances, even if he knew he’d be in for trouble.

A minute passed. She composed herself, then scooted toward the passenger door. She wiped at her tear-stained face with the back of her hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have a tissue in this car, would you?”

He nodded and opened the glove box, and offered her the napkins he’d found when he’d first checked the rental.

“Thanks,” she said, drying her face, then blowing her nose. “God, I’m so embarrassed. I’ve been so tired lately. I must have dozed off and had another nightmare.” She frowned. “Although I don’t remember dreaming.” Crumpling the napkin in her hand, she frowned and looked out the window. “Are we here?”